


You are my deepening skies, Give me your stars to hold.

by dirtyinfluences



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Bonding, Creepy Ardyn, Fluff, Getting to Know Each Other, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Poetry, Jealousy, M/M, Minor Violence, Sappy, Slow Burn, poetry used as a plot device
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-11-04 00:42:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 14,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10978782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirtyinfluences/pseuds/dirtyinfluences
Summary: Along the way Ignis and Prompto bond over a shared interest and things start to grow from there; Flourishing and developing into something deeper.My hopes were heaven-high,They are all fulfilled in you.





	1. 'O Solitude! if I must with thee dwell

**Author's Note:**

> Aaaaaaay. So. It's been forever and a day since I've written fic. But Final Fantasy XV consumed my life and I've been wanting to do _something_. And lo and behind, I threw on some poetry readings since I ran out of audiobooks to listen to while crocheting, and my inner pretentious English student bubbled back to the surface and I remembered how much I friggen love poetry, man.
> 
> And then I thought "What if Prompto was a closet poetry lover? And Ignis was so well schooled there was no way they left out classical art and literature, right? Riiiiiight?"
> 
> Title comes from Sara Teasdale's [Peace](https://hellopoetry.com/poem/5056/peace/)

By the time they had arrived at the Galdin Quay, and to the discovery of a delayed boat and new quest, the sun was already hung low in the sky and there no argument about settling down for the night. After an easy majority win against Gladio in favour of the camper the four broke up and spread out. While Noctis was longtime friends with Gladio, Ignis and Prompto, the three of them couldn’t exactly claim to be close friends to one another. Even with that aside, being in a car with three other people for more than a few hours warranted a need to get away from each other – Noctis included.

From his seat at one of the camper’s tables, Ignis observed with mug in hand, mentally keeping track of his comrades. Noctis had unsurprisingly had found his way to the fishing dock on the beach and Gladio was close by, moving through various exercises at the other end of the dock. Prompto was the closest to Ignis, having made a seat of the rocks to the left of the camper. He was fiddling with his camera, boots kicked off to the side and feet shoved into the sand. Once satisfied that everyone was within his sights, Ignis’ attention went down to his phone and his planning. Galdin Quay’s beach was quiet at night, the waves louder than whatever noise filtered down from the resort. The waves and Prompto’s humming, quiet words interjected into the tune every now and then, served as his background noise as he checked new reports and emails. Neither sound, he noted, were unpleasant. Slowly, he found himself starting to repeatedly glance over to Prompto, curious as to what tune he was humming as it kept changing in noticeable ways. 

Briefly he considered asking the other what the song was but before the fleeting thought could be considered the humming stopped to be replaced with the telltale click of the camera taking a picture. Before Ignis could look over to see what had captured a photographers eye, Prompto was already looking at the display with the camera pointed back towards his lap. Glancing back to his phone, Ignis didn’t get far into his reading before he was stopped by quiet words reaching his ears. 

“Nature’s observatory – whence the dell,” Prompto was muttering to himself, lifting the camera back up and pointing it towards the ocean where the moon reflected off the water's surface, “it’s flowery slopes, it’s river’s crystal swell.” he recited as he snapped another photo.

He knew this.

“May seem a span; let me thy vigils keep-”

“’Mongst boughs pavilioned, where the Spiracorn’s swift leap Startles the bee,” Ignis continued, pausing for Prompto, who startled with a leap.

“from the foxglove bell.” Prompto followed up with, looking now at Ignis with an embarrassed flush creeping up his neck. “You know it?”

“Of course. A classic poet.” Ignis stood from his chair, leaving his mug behind on the table as he made his way closer to Prompto, eyes narrowed as if looking at him for the first time; Like he was assessing him. “Though, I hadn’t thought another to have the poem so well memorized. If I may ask, did you learn it in class? I don’t recall Noctis doing much poetry.”

Ignis stopped a foot away, looking down at Prompto who had let go of his camera to hang around his neck and started to nervously unbury his feet from the sand.

“Nah, they never gave us any of the good stuff. My folks had a few poetry books at home, and I kind of liked them so I've read them a few times.” Prompto explained as he finished dusting off his feet. Putting on a bright smile, he heaved himself up. “Hey, we have something in common, Iggy!”

“Indeed.”

"Well, I should get cleaned up before those two decide to come back and hog all the hot water. See ya in the morning!" Prompto lightly patted Ignis on the arm as he walked past, boots in hand, and Ignis found himself turning to watch him make his way back into the camper. Only once the door banged closed, in the way only tin metal doors can, did Ignis move again to head back over to his abandoned drink. 

Glancing back towards Noctis and Gladio, who were now talking, Ignis leaned on the table with a thoughtful hum, mind going over not just the poem Prompto had been reciting, but all that he remembered learning over the years. 

Maybe brushing up on his poetry wouldn't be a bad idea. The voyage to Altissia wasn't going to be quick so he had time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little does he know he's gonna have more time to relearn poetry than a boat ride.
> 
> So. Yeah. I already have a few poems picked out for possible further chapters. If anyone wants me to continue. Or should I just. See myself back to the corner? Over there?
> 
> (And yknow, if you have any poems you want to see, let me know!)
> 
> This chapter's poem was ['O Solitude! if I must with thee dwell](https://hellopoetry.com/poem/275/o-solitude-if-i-must-with-thee-dwell/) by John Keats
> 
> No beta, so all mistakes are my own!


	2. "Hope" is the thing with feathers

At the Prairie Outpost Prompto sat cross legged on his perch – the hood of a rusty black car – soaking in the sun at his back as he watched Noctis at the merchant’s truck across from him. No doubt selling and buying to better equip the group for the new course their journey was taking. A chill wind breezed past as Prompto thought about it, in tandem with his uneasy feelings about the whole thing.

The power of kings. A quest to fulfill a birthright and prove his worth. Already they had two of these Royal Arms, but something told Prompto that the rest were not going to be as easy to obtain; Not that fighting a giant Arachnid was easy or anything. But, in terms of finding the hiding spots of these ancient tombs. Despite his earlier excitement, which perhaps had been aided a bit by the giddiness of hero worship of The Immortal, it all seemed a bit daunting now that he was left, uninterrupted, to his own thoughts.

But at least it was a direction they could follow. The fall of Insomnia had left them adrift with no clear next move and this gave them something to hold onto. Something to think about besides the demise of their home, the death of their King – Noctis’ father – and the uncertainty of everything. It made it easier to keep a brave face and be the pillar of strength Noct needed of his friends. Cor had the hunters on the lookout for more of the tombs but they couldn't just idle around so until then Prompto supposed they’d channel their energy into kicking some MT ass, taking names, and taking on hunts to keep their skills sharp and gil purses stocked.

So wrapped in his internal monologue, he failed to notice another joining him. It was only at the clearing of a throat that he became aware of his companion, and he looked over to find himself staring up at Ignis. Briefly Prompto was reminded of the beach at Galdin Quay and the heavy moon in the sky, the night that Ignis had appeared next to him without notice. Either he needed to be more alert or Ignis was particularly skilled at moving quietly – Personally he decided it was the latter. 

“Quarter Gil for your thoughts?” Ignis questioned, body angled towards the merchant truck and close by gathering of local hunters in the crumbling shell of what appeared to once a building. However, his head was tilted down towards Prompto, eyes on him.

“Just... thinking about all this royal duty and king stuff,” Prompto circled his hands in the air as he said this, “and something about it just kind of feels like the beginning of a storm, you know? But maybe that’s just the lingering mood of, well, everything that’s happened.” he finished with a shrug.

In response Ignis let out a non-committal hum, stepping in closer to lean a hip against the car and cross his arms. Together they fell into a companionable silence as they observed the outpost. Another breeze kicked up the dust around them, and Prompto stretched out his legs to dangle over the side of the car as he contemplated how.... not awkward the lack of words between them was. Ignis’ presence had helped ease his worried thoughts to a degree and he found himself enjoying the quiet company. Across the way, Noctis finished up with the vendor and moved to join Gladio in talking to the hunters.

It was just as Prompto thought that they would stay like this until Noctis declared them ready to leave, that Ignis twisted his upper body towards him and, in an even voice, started reciting:

“ ‘Hope’ is the thing with feathers –  
that perches in the soul –  
And sings the tune without the words –  
And never stops – at all -”

here he paused, eyes flickering over Prompto’s face which held an intrigued look. The expression must have been what he was searching for as he seemed satisfied as he continued:

“And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –  
And sore must be the storm –  
That could abash the little Bird  
That kept so many warm –

I’ve heard it in the chilliest land –  
And on the strangest Sea –  
Yet – never – in Extremity,  
It asked a crumb – of me.”

Ignis finished, still holding Prompto’s gaze. For a moment nothing further passed between them until Prompto took in a deep breath and let it escape out with a heavy sigh.

“I.... thanks, Ignis.” Prompto started slowly, a grin taking over his face, wide and happy and grateful. He shimmied himself off the car, and dusted off the seat of his pants before turning back to the adviser. “I honestly feel a lot better now.”

“I’m pleased to hear. The power of words can be remarkable, don’t you think? If you’re amenable, perhaps one of these nights we can talk poetry and compare favourites.” Ignis replied, corner of his mouth lifting in a return smile. “Now, shall we see if Noct and Gladio are ready or if we'll have to leave them behind?”

“Yeah, sure! You go on. I’ll head over to the Regalia.” Prompto nodded, and his steps felt a bit lighter than they had been all week as he headed towards the shining, black vehicle. 

Once he was in the Regalia, Prompto looked back towards Ignis – who was now with Noctis and Gladio – and with only a moment of consideration he lifted his camera, zooming in on the man to capture a picture of him. Before he had the chance to put down the camera, Ignis turned towards him with the same hint of a smile he held earlier and Prompto automatically snapped another photo, grinning from ear to ear as he checked it on the display screen.

_He really does have a nice smile. _he thought, turning off his camera before the others arrived.__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah! Look who's back already! Unfortunately I can't promise I'll continue to be as quick but..... we'll see what happens. I only set out to mock up a general idea for this chapter and here we are. (Maybe in the future I'll be able to make these chapters a bit longer)
> 
> The poem for this chapter is ["Hope" is the thing with feathers](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems-and-poets/poems/detail/42889) by Emily Dickinson. I always felt that start of chapter two was a bit.... idk, not cheerful but not all that somber considering the events that just took place? At least, when it comes to everyone outside Noctis. I liked the idea that, despite outward appearances, maybe they needed to remind themselves that hope was still there. And I've always liked reading this poem when I needed a reminder to keep going!
> 
> Also on the quarter gil thing - I personally like to think that 'gil' is something like 'dollar' or 'euro' rather than being a currency system with just one type of coin. And I liked the flow of it :P


	3. Aedh Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven

Lestallum! Prompto had been very near vibrating with excitement as he gotten ready in the morning, bobbing his head to his own singing and deciding on what he wanted to see and take pictures of the most. As per normal, Prince Sleepy Head had proven hard to wake, delaying their planned early start, and in the end they had collectively agreed to leave him be for the time. Especially once Iris volunteered to stick around and show him the town once he finally stirred.

So here they were, Prompto, Ignis, Gladio and Talcott wandering around the market. And by wandering what Prompto really meant was squeezing their way through a crowd of people to look at the booths lined up in the marketplace. A mass of hot, sticky bodies in the hot, sticky air of Lestallum.

“Geeze, I didn’t think it’d be so _hot_ here.” Prompto all but whined, tugging at the collar of his shirt to air himself off. He was 99% sure his hair was probably a sad, flat thing by now with the humidity despite his careful styling. Bummer. “I wonder if Noct’s woken up yet.”

“Yeah, he’d better not be keeping my sister waiting too long.” Gladio gruffly added in, arms crossed over his chest. Prompto couldn’t help but snort at Gladio’s ‘protective big brother’ voice, not missing the underlying fondness present – he knew Gladio was too happy at seeing his sister to put any real heat behind it. The thought of them being reunited made Prompto’s heart swell; Prompto had lost contact with his adopted parents a few years back, when they had finally left Insomnia for good for their ‘jobs’, so he hadn’t anyone close to him left in Insomnia to worry about when the capitol fell. Gladio had kept his worry squashed down pretty good, but Prompto prided himself in being intuitive. After all, he was a photographer and, amateur or not, he had to be able to read people to get emotion in his pictures. There had been no missing the relief on Gladio’s face when Iris had contacted Noctis, even with his grumbling about her calling the prince first over her big brother.

“It was kind of her to volunteer to stay behind for him.” Ignis commented, leaned over one of the food stands and carefully considering the options before him. At this, Prompto couldn’t help himself, unable to hold back a snort of amusement.

“Ah yes. Love is a curse,” He lilted his voice up into a singing tune at the end, ignoring the glare Gladio shot his way at the mention of love.

“Don’t you mean love is a first?” Ignis replied with a raised eyebrow, looking towards him. Something about the expression caused Prompto’s stomach to jump in a funny way – a feeling he squashed down and refused to think about, instead allowing his pleasure at Ignis knowing his reference to be his surface emotion.

“Why, Ignis, I didn’t know you listened to anything but sophisticated, stuffy, classical music!” Prompto threw in his best cheesy posh accent, pleased with himself as Ignis chuckled. Behind him, he heard Gladio groan and mutter something, probably to Taclott, before announcing they were gonna go grab something to eat at one of the food vendors.

“Come now, even I’m not that uncultured.” Ignis teased as Prompto followed him out of the heart of the crowd once Gladio and Talcott departed, coming to a stand on the outskirts of the market. It was filled with baubles and trinkets and Prompto was immediately drawn in to poke around at them, like a chocobo to shiny objects, thinking on how to answer the other man .

“Hey there coffee girl, beautiful and disaffected, it was perfect till he came along and wreaked iiiiiiit.” he chose to sing instead, purposely aiming to be off-key in an attempt to make Ignis laugh again, pausing when something strange caught the corner of his eye. He thought he saw what looked to be the flutter of a heavy cloak as someone ducked into the ally nearest them. But who on Eos would wear something like that in this heat? Dressed down as he was, Prompto could still feel the sweat trickling down his back and even Ignis had changed from his normal outfit into a lighter henley shirt.

Shaking his head, Prompto resumed his search, letting out an excited little sound when he spotted a book. Immediately, he picked it up and started flipping through the pages and his excitement only grew when he realized what the contents were.

“Hey, look, Iggy! It’s poetry!” He announced, thrusting the book in his companion’s direction and giving it a wiggle as if to entice him further to take it. With an exasperated sigh, but the hint of a smile, Ignis took the offered item to go through it himself. Prompto watched, bouncing on his feet. Finally Ignis closed the book, hand lingering on the paperback cover.

“Do you want it?” Came the question, catching Prompto off guard.

“Well, yeah, but....” Prompto trailed off, shifting his weight from one side to the other in uncertainty - that wasn't what he had been expecting to hear. From what he saw the book contained a number of new poems he couldn’t recall reading before. But even with the hunts they had taken while waiting for a sign of the next tomb they weren’t exactly rolling in Gil. “It’s not really a necessity, huh?” he settled on with a laugh.

“A little frivolous spending now and then doesn’t hurt. I don’t imagine we’ll suffer greatly over one little book. Just one promise, though.” Ignis leveled Prompto with a look that he couldn’t decide was intimidating or not, but he was quick to agree.

“Anything!”

“You must read me your favourites.” A hint of a smirk grew into an undeniable smile.

Prompto floundered at this, unable to quickly find a response that didn’t sound stupid to his own ears. By the time he gathered himself enough to nod his head in agreement Ignis was already turned to the stand owner and handing the Gil down to the exact coin. As soon at the exchange was done, Ignis turned back to him and held out the book. Gratefully, Prompto took it in both hands and pressed it to his chest.

“I’ll cherish it with my life!” Prompto dramatically vowed, playing at the joker to hide just how truly happy, and somewhat touched, he was. “Seriously, thanks.” he added on, voice softer with sincerity.

Before either of them could talk further about it, Gladio and Taclott had joined them again, holding as many meat skewers as they could handle with Gladio insisting that they were _almost_ as good as cup noodles and they just had to try them before heading back.

* * *

Not all that much later they were back at the Leville, waiting in the lobby for Noctis to return with Iris after hearing a rather interesting story from Talcott. Prompto took this as a chance to check out his new book, hungrily taking in the first few poems while he could (and perhaps a bit motivated to find something worthy enough to share with Ignis). Who knows how long Noctis would be after all – even though Prompto had a sneaking suspicion it wouldn’t be all that long before Noctis would tire of walking around.

It didn’t take long for Prompto to find one he was drawn to, rereading it a few times before edging over a little closer to Ignis. Thankfully, Gladio was talking to both Jared and Taclott, which meant he could probably get away without any significant amount of teasing from the big guy. Maybe. If he didn’t hear him.

“Hey, Ignis. What do you think about this one?” He waited for Ignis to tilt his head in his direction with a hum to convey he was listening before he started reading, keeping his voice low,

“Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,  
Enwrought with golden and silver light,  
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths  
Of night and light and the half light,  
I would spread the cloths under your feet:  
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;  
I have spread my dreams under your feet;  
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.”

Looking up from the page, Prompto found himself making eye contact with Ignis, who had been listening quietly and intently the whole time. It stretched for a minute, until Ignis broke the look by glancing to the side.

“You seem to favour the romantics, am I mistaken?” Ignis commented. However, before Prompto could respond he caught sight of Noctis strolling in through the open doors of the hotel, Iris close behind. He gave one last look Ignis’ way before taking a few steps back to not be in the way of Jared and Talcott.

“Hey, look who’s back! Talcott, go on and tell ‘em what you told me.” He announced while crossing his arms and tucking the book against his side and out of sight.

They would talk about it another time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, okay, hear me out. I know Yeats isn't part of the Romantic era but he was influenced by the romantic poets and like.... lets just pretend he's considered the end of the Romantic era and beginning of Symbolism in Lucis. Yeah? Yeah? Let's preteeeeend shhhhh.
> 
> Songs referenced belong to ~~Canadian national treasure~~ The Tragically Hip.
> 
> Poem is William Butler Yeats' [Aedh Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven](https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/aedh-wishes-cloths-heaven)


	4. Auguries of Innocence

“Now this feels like a road trip.”

“Yeah, go figure”

Prompto wearily eyed Ardyn after his announcement of ‘camping’ with them, orbiting around him to head over to the caravan. One minute this Man of No Consequence didn’t seem all that bad but then the next minute he had Prompto’s skin crawling. He wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt – they could use all the help they could get – and trust him but there was something..... predatory, Prompto decided. Something predatory in his eyes. 

“Woohoo! Bath time!” He cheerfully announced, in part to place dibs on the first shower and in part to get away from Ardyn and the heebyjeebies that accompanied him. 

Once the caravan was unlocked to them, Prompto barreled through with an iron grip on his canvas backpack and locked himself in the tiny bathroom before anyone else could get a word in edgewise. Through the thin walls he could hear Gladio grumbling something about impatient chocobos hogging the water. 

Honestly, calling it a bathroom was doing the space a huge favour. In reality it was a cramped space that held a small toilet, a sink attached to the wall, and a stand up shower stall. Prompto could almost touch both walls if he held his arms out straight. Dropping his bag to the floor, he started up the water, peeling his sweat soaked clothes off one article at a time. He hesitated, however, when he got to his wristbands, fingers hovering indecisively over the snaps and buckles. He was always tentative baring his wrists even when he was completely alone but for some reason he found himself hesitating more than he normally would. Like something else was stopping him.

He could hear Ardyn’s voice now, muffled by the shower.

Forcing himself to be quick, before he could put it off longer, he ripped off his bracelets to throw them into the sink and jumped into the stall. He squeezed his eyes tightly closed, forcing out the world around him. He focused on his heartbeat, the sound of the water beating against his skin, against the walls, and steadied himself again. This was fine. It was going to be fine. Ardyn was a bit of a creepy fellow but so far he had been helpful so he couldn’t be a bad guy. And as long as he kept his wrist covered, he was nothing but normal, silly, fun loving Prompto. Although he had no idea what the markings meant, he knew they branded him as something other. More other than he already was. It was no secret to him that he was a Nif. His adopted parents had never hidden from him the location in which he had been found as a toddler and his whole appearance, blond hair and fair skin, was more than enough proof. But no one knew what the secret behind his wrist was and it was a universal truth in his world that it wasn’t good and no one else could know.

As he started cleaning himself off he let his mind wander to other things. Particularly, the recent development between himself and Ignis. He couldn’t name what it was exactly but he felt that something had shifted between them. He did know it came back to the poems. Which he supposed sounded silly if he had to say it out loud - ‘yeah, we’ve made a deep connection because of poetry’ - but that was the start of it. It had given them something in common to talk about besides Noctis and opened up a pathway for them to converse with each other more and more. It was like he had discovered a whole new side of Ignis the more they talked.

Of course, the same could be said of himself and Gladio but there was something different about that.

“Hurry up, man!” Noctis called out as he knocked on the door, rattling Prompto out of his thoughts – oops, he had drifted too far. Hastily, he rinsed himself and jumped out of the shower, making short work of drying off and dressing again before Noctis and Gladio saw fit to knock the door down. Which, well, wouldn’t be the first time. (He was unashamed to admit to the high pitched squeal that had left him when that happened.)

 

By the time Prompto had found his way outside the caravan again the sun had already set and the moon was high in the sky. He took a moment to admire the scene it made, and the sight of the Disc in the distance. As ominous as the night was out here, with the constant threat of daemons, it didn’t negate the beauty of the stars. With a wistful sigh, Prompto plopped down into one of the plastic chairs away from the camper, shifting around to get comfy before pulling out his book to read. Normally he’d be spending his pre-sleep time kicking Noct and Gladio’s asses in Kings Knight when it came to staying at a caravan (electricity, baby) but they had been having a rather heated debate he didn't want to butt into. Besides, the little paperbook book was quickly becoming one of his most prized possessions.

He was halfway through a poem, reading it out to himself in a whisper, when he heard the sound of footsteps and heavy clothing. He hardly had the chance to look up before Ardyn was sweeping up alongside of him, fingertips tracing the top of the book.

“Poetry, is it?” He commented with a hum. “How interesting.”

Prompto narrowed his eyes, and was about to pull his book away into his lap when Ardyn’s hand dropped, touching the wristsbands on Prompto’s right wrist. This time, Prompto reacted immediately, jerking his arm back as if touched by a live wire. His pulse reacted in turn, speeding up to jump against his throat. His stomach dropped in a sickening way at the brief look of amusement that light up Ardyn’s face before he stepped back.

“Pardon me,” he said with a tip of his head, as if the touch had been an accident. “I had not guessed you would be so cultured in literature. Would you like to hear a poem that I very much doubt is in that book of yours?” 

“Sure.” Prompto replied slowly, doubting very much that his answer made a difference – he’d be hearing it anyway. His grip on his wrist, which he held protectively against his belly, tightened.

“A horse misused upon the road  
Calls to heaven for human blood.  
Each outcry of the hunted hare  
A fibre from the brain does tear.

A skylark wounded in the wing,  
A cherubim does cease to sing.  
The game-cock clipt and arm'd for fight  
Does the rising sun affright.

Every wolf's and lion's howl  
Raises from hell a human soul.

Every night and every morn  
Some to misery are born,  
Every morn and every night  
Some are born to sweet delight.

Some are born to sweet delight,  
Some are born to endless night.”

Ardyn gestured grandly as he spoke, prowling the limited space in front of Prompto. It was so very unlike the way Ignis recited poetry, and Prompto found himself longing to be speaking to and hearing poetry from Ignis instead. Where Ignis put him at ease, Ardyn made shivers crawl up his spine.

“I do admit, it is a bit of an abridged version. Speaks true to human nature, do you not think?” Ardyn came to a stop directly in front of Prompto, staring down.

* * *

Ignis let out a deep inhale as he propped a hip against the kitchenette’s counter, listening vaguely to Gladio and Noctis ribbing each other for.... something. If he were being quite honest he wasn’t paying all that much attention to them. Having been the last to shower, Ignis had been a little off put to come out and find Prompto no where in sight. Logically, it just meant he was outside the camper but a small part of Ignis couldn’t help but be disappointed; a feeling he found quite absurd. It wasn’t as if Prompto was gone far.

Ignis had grown quite fond of the sharpshooter. 

Truth be told, he always had a soft spot for Prompto, even if he had never said so out loud. It was hard not to after all he had heard from Noctis and the way the young prince had seemed happier since befriending him. And after meeting him in person, he was just so outwardly bright it was impossible not to catch a bit of that happiness. Sure, he had to scold him at times (the boy did not do well with keeping his attention on one thing) but he did the same to Noctis so it wasn't as if it was indicative of negatives feelings.

Leaning back to peer out the window, Ignis took survey of the area to seek Prompto out. Ahh, there he was....

Was that Ardyn?

Something equal parts possessive and protective flared up behind his ribs, and the brew of emotion left him feeling a bit unsettled. He was no stranger to the feeling of protection, certainly not as the adviser and tactician to the future King of Lucis, but possessive was something new. No, surely he was just unsettled because of his distrust of Ardyn. That had to be it.

“Would you care to join me outside? Perhaps get in a few rounds of Kings Knight in the fresh air?” Ignis suggested to the other two, not wanting to alarm them with ‘Ardyn is outside alone with Prompto’ for fear of them aggressively throwing themselves at the man. All the same, he got a strange look from both Gladio and Noctis at being the one to suggest playing the game, likely due to the fact that he usually joined in later instead of initiating it. 

“Sure, why not.” Gladio shrugged, but Ignis was already half out the door with long strides in a clear path towards Prompto.

“Some are born to sweet delight, Some are born to endless night. I do admit, it is a bit of an abridged version. Speaks true to human nature, do you not think?” How overly dramatic, Ignis thought as he came up besides Prompto, placing a light touch on his shoulder.

“Prompto, we’re planning on starting a quest in Kings Knight. Would you like to join?” He asked, looking directly at Ardyn as he spoke. A challenge of sorts, daring him to say something in refute.

“You know it, my man!” Prompto said as he bounced up, strain evident behind his mask of cheerfulness. “be prepared to lose to me!”

Ignis allowed himself the small, selfish act of dropping his hand down to Prompto’s lower back as he guided him to the table that Gladio and Noctis were at. Both of them eyeing the exchange with a tense set to their bodies.

“Thanks, Ignis.” Prompto whispered as they walked together, so low that Ignis barely caught it. Ignis simply nodded, breaking away when they made it to the other two.

Unfortunately Ardyn didn’t go far for the rest of the night, but Ignis felt a lot better that the four of them were together around him.

Now, to see what tomorrow brought them when they followed him to the Disc of Cauthess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turns out dance practice let out early so I had time before work to post this \o/ I've only very quickly read over it before having to leave so please point out any errors!
> 
> This was one of the original scenes I had planned out and I had wanted to push it off a bit longer but... there's still lots of story content after this I can work with so... here it is! 
> 
> Poem for this chapter is [Auguries of Innocence](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Auguries_of_Innocence) by William Blake. I read it in one of my books when I originally sought out poems to use and this struck me as a very.... Ardyn-y. Forgive me for the wikipedia link. It was like the only online version I could find that separated the stanzas. Don't worry, next chapter we'll be back to poetry being between Ignis and Prompto!


	5. Insomniac //  Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A double poem feature!

A cold chill clung to the night air and the wind carried with it the croaks and howls of night terrors as it breezed past the haven. Any other night it would cause Prompto to shiver with a dramatic sigh to lament the cold but he was too drained to do much besides lean in closer to the sleeping chocobo, Sunny, behind him to steal bodywarmth and stare at the smouldering embers from the earlier fire. His eyes burned with tiredness, but the rest of his body refused to cooperate with him. He was exhausted down to the bone after the last few days: The ceaseless rain, Ramuh, the Naga, running around Duscae on foot, riding chocobos for hours on end (don’t get him wrong, he still adored them but his rear was _killing_ him from so many hours in a saddle), and taking out an imperial base on top of it all. Bright side, they had the Regalia back. Focus on that bright side, Prompto.

_“My baby... where... bring back... my baby...”_

He didn’t hide it from the others, at the time, how much the Naga had scared him – it had such a strange fixation on him and was overall creepy – but it may have stuck with him past the cave. That was the part he was unwilling to share. It’s pleas had stirred from his mind a long forgotten nightmare from his youth, ripped almost word for word from it. It had always felt so real, more like a memory than a dream, but his parents were always quick to tell him it was nothing more than a nightmare, you don’t make memories before you’re three honey and we’ve had you since you were two, go back to bed.

Prompto squeezed his eyes shut against the memory, plunging his fingers into the soft plumage over his shoulder. Sunny let out a snort of air and moved but did not wake from her slumber. Once he was sure she was fully asleep again, he started gently running his fingers over her feathers, humming his chocobo song lightly to himself.

Behind him the tent door unzipped but he found he couldn't will himself to turn around and look at whoever was exiting. Within seconds it became obvious it was Ignis – he had spent so much time around his friends now that he could even tell the difference in their steps. Gladio was all bulk and muscle and walked heavy with strength. Noctis’ gait was uneven, one foot heavier than the other, even when his old injury wasn’t bothering him. Ignis was light on his feet with the grace expected of an acrobat.

“Prompto?” Ignis ventured once he was standing next to him. Prompto shuffled over in silent invitation and it took only a second for Ignis to slowly lower himself to the ground next him.

“Unable to sleep, I presume?” Ignis asked when Prompto didn’t offer up any response. The was a tinge of worry in his voice which pulled Prompto towards alertness. He wasn’t meant to worry people. His job was to help alleviate their distress. Unbidden, something he heard when he was younger was the first response that came to mind.

“There are some nights when  
sleep plays coy,  
aloof and disdainful.  
And all the wiles  
that I employ to win  
its service to my side  
are useless as wounded pride,  
and much more painful.”

He took in a deep breath before ruefully admitting,

“Bad dreams, actually.”

Ignis nodded sagely at the words, settling himself in more comfortably against Sunny. There was only a sliver of space between him and Prompto, and the blond felt his fingers itch to cross the gap. Instead, he studied the profile of the man next to him staring up at the stars, distantly aware of the way his heart started beating more rapidly. When Ignis suddenly looked back down at him Prompto didn't bother to pretend he wasn’t staring.

“Hold fast to dreams  
For if dreams die  
Life is a broken-winged bird  
That cannot fly.

Hold fast to dreams  
For when dreams go  
Life is a barren field  
Frozen with snow.”

Prompto couldn’t help it; Ignis responding to his poem with his own poem was the last thing he had expected and it caused a huff of laughter to escape him. 

“You dork,” Prompto declared after his short bought of laughter, repositioning himself slightly to angle his body towards Ignis.

“I do recall you responded with a poem first. If anyone is the dork, that would mean it is you.” Ignis replied with an upward quirk of his mouth. Feeling bold, Prompto gave him a soft punch to the shoulder in retaliation.

They sat in a comfortable silence for a while before Prompto realized he didn’t feel all that cold anymore. How could he when he was instead surrounded by warmth with Sunny at his back and Ignis still only a hair’s breadth away? Slowly, bit by bit, he started nodding off, comfort coaxing him towards sleep. The only thing that kept him from falling asleep all together was Ignis moving to stand up. The movement and loss of body heat had him coming back to full consciousness.

“Let’s get back to the tent, shall we?” Ignis prompted, holding out his hand to Prompto. Gladly taking the offered help, Prompto hauled himself up from the ground only to take an extra step forward into Ignis to not fall over when the pins and needles reminded him that his ass and legs had gone to sleep from sitting on a hard, rocky surface. 

The extra step had their bodies pressed together, however Ignis made no move to step back. Prompto chanced a look up at him through his fringe.

If he wanted to get poetic, it was as if the air had been stolen from his lungs and time stood still as he stared up and Ignis stared down at him. The moment broke only when Ignis’ eyes left his to flick down his face and then back up. Had Prompto looked away he would have seen Ignis’ hand hover, fingers closing and then unclosing in a moment’s hesitation before he finally brought his hand up to sweep aside the hair that had fallen in the way of Prompto’s eyes. His fingertips lingered near Prompto’s ear before falling away.

“It’ll be dawn soon. Let us sleep while we can.” Ignis said, pulling back to lead the way to the tent. Wordlessly, Prompto followed him in a daze, heart thumping loudly in his ears.

No more words passed between them as they settled down, no discussion of what had just happened. But they both fell asleep facing the other, positioned so they could look at each other over the heads of their companions until sleep took them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm actually pumping these out faster than I thought I would be?? They are short chapters but I'm also an intense slacker... also please ignore that technically in game you pretty much go straight to Lestallum after getting the Regalia back. Let's just pretend a detour needed to be made.... for reasons.
> 
> I actually ended up being somewhat organized and did up an outline of what I have planned. As of now I've a plan for 15 chapters ~~(...which yes may be because ff15 and 15 chapters in game don'tjudgemeharshlypls)~~ but that could change and I have a few chapters to figure out in between what I have. As well as some poems to decide on. So, still time to get in a recommendation :P (For the one I already: Don't worry, I haven't forgotten  <3 )
> 
> The two poems for this chapter is Maya Angelou's [Insomniac](https://allpoetry.com/poem/8511425-Insomniac-by-Maya-Angelou) and [Dreams](https://www.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/dreams) by Langston Hughes


	6. Sea Fever

The sea really was quite lovely down here. The breeze coming off the water was strong and brought with it the taste and smell of salt. It was peaceful, Ignis would go so far as to say, even if he hadn’t particularly wanted to make yet another pit stop before hitting Cape Caem. He could not begrudge Iris, however. She was not as used to travelling such long distances as they and the frequent stops had them pushing against the dusk until it was agreed they wouldn’t make it to their destination before nightfall. 

Noctis, Prompto and Iris were all gathered on a nearby dock while Gladio had busied himself with building a fire and pitching the tent. It left Ignis alone to relax and unwind and he took advantage of it by letting himself fall heavily into his chair without a thought to his posture. With one hand he slowly worked out the tension in his neck and between his shoulder blades and the other held his phone as he flicked through various pages and apps. By the time he had worked out the knots and found what he was looking for, the fishing party had returned, catch in hand. _Well, that answers the question of supper._

Iris was as excitable as Prompto tended to be and Ignis found himself watching them fondly as he threw together something with the strange fish Noctis had presented him. They were like two peas in a pod. While Iris still tended to gravitate around Noctis, her and Prompto had grown closer during the ride from Lestallum to Cape Caem, having quite a few shared interests outside of the prince.

When Prompto threw his head back to laugh at something particularly funny, Ignis couldn’t help but watch him and appreciate the line of his neck and the flush that covered not only his cheeks but travelled all the way down his neck. He only became aware of how long he was staring when the smell of cooking fish gained the pungent smell of blackening food and he jolted to action quickly to save it before it could properly burn. 

Honestly, he wasn’t sure what to think of himself and Prompto. The heavy feeling of uncertainty wasn’t something he was used to but he also had no idea of how to go forward. It bothered the part of him that kept his life organized and and together. Though he had first taken more notice of the boy after the poetry revelation at Galdin Quay it wasn’t until after the first Royal Tomb that he had actually felt himself drawn to him. Prompto had started revealing more layers to his personality – or was Ignis just paying closer attention? – and Ignis grew all the more.... he didn’t know what to call it. All he knew was that apart from the fondness, he felt some kind of affection beyond friendship. He was quite sure the feeling was returned in kind but the lack of verbal confirmation still left it open. There was a possibility he was just reading too far into it, but he would eat his planer if he wasn’t right. Another thing that kept him from going forward was the many concerns besides, the top being his duty to Noctis; For almost as long as he had lived it had been ingrained into his being that he lived and breathed for his role to His Highness. It carried the unspoken rule that Noctis was to be his number one priority always. This had always kept Ignis from forming any sort of deep friendly attachments let alone romantic ones. Who could deal with not being his first priority, after all? It wouldn’t be fair to anyone.

And yet... and yet Ignis found himself wanting to try anyway. If anyone was likely to understand it was Prompto but he also did not want to push him as he still seemed a bit uncertain and hesitant himself.

After everyone had eaten and everything was cleaned up, Ignis lingered around his table with a cup of coffee of the brewed variety (he prided himself, after all, of being a man with broad tastes. Hot coffee suited him just as fine as the canned kind) as he looked back out to the water. This time the moon reflected off the surface instead of the fiery orange of sundown, but the air was still heavy with seasalt. For a brief second he let himself entertain the thought of spending his retired days by the sea.

Movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention and broke the train of thought, and when he looked over to see what it was he saw that it was just Prompto. The odd thing about it was that he was carefully making his way over the jutting rocks around the haven. Why would he...? Ignis glanced over to the other three but they were either not aware of Prompto leaving or were unconcerned.

When he looked back to Prompto, he was on the dock and sitting down, easing some of the worry. As nonchalantly as possible, Ignis made sure he had his phone on him before following Prompto off the haven. He hadn’t joined them to the pier earlier so he hadn't gotten a gauge of how hard it was to get footing on the rocks, but eventually he arrived only just a little ruffled.

Thankfully Prompto seemed to have noticed his approach, and had turned so he could watch Ignis’ arrival with a smile. To his right was his boots, socks shoved into each one.

“Fancy meeting you out here. Come here often?” Prompto asked with a raised eyebrow, unable to keep the mirth out of his voice long enough to be convincingly serious. Ignis sat down beside him but refrained from dangling his legs into the water like the other. 

“Water you doing out here so late?” Ignis asked instead and by the six, that was definitely not one of his better ones. Prompto snorted, and leaned back onto his hands.

“Besides Galdin Quay I haven’t gotten to see this much water before. I’m sure I’ll get sick of it once we’re sailing though.” Prompto laughed. “But... it’s nice.”

“The sea certainly is something to behold.” Ignis gave a small nod in agreement, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. “I have a poem I believe you’ll like then, if that’s the case.”

Prompto sat up straight at the mention of a poem and shuffled over eagerly until he was pressed up to Ignis’ side. Ignis chuckled at the reaction, trying not to think about the heat of Prompto’s thigh against his, as he pulled up the bookmark.

“I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,  
And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;  
And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,  
And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking.

I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide  
Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;  
And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,  
And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,  
To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;  
And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,  
And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.”

After the end of the poem, Ignis pocketed his device again, looking over to Prompto who looked almost dazed.

"I think that might be my favourite poem yet," he finally commented, blinking quickly a few times before he broke out into a grin that lit up his whole face. "You always find the best poems, Iggy."

"Come now, no need to exaggerate." Was Ignis' immediate reaction, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose to hide the wave of what was equal parts embarrassment and pleasure. They continued to sit pressed together, silent but for the splashes upon the rocks, gazing out at the dark water. If they could stay like this forever, listening to the waves together with this feeling of calm, Ignis found nothing he could complain about in that scenario.

_And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover_

He thought about that line again and looked over to Prompto, feeling something click into place and settle with warmth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, it's so late and I have work so early but I felt so bad about not updating for like a week that I was like "I need to do it. I need to get this out.". I do have most of the next chapter already done though so hopefully I'll have that up in the next day or two.
> 
> Today's chapter is for Grac3 who suggested the poem; [Sea Fever](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems-and-poets/poems/detail/54932). I hope you like what I did with it!!
> 
> Also, I used to live next to a significant body of salt water. Rocks around the coast and that kind of water is frikken treacherous, man. All sharp and jagged yet smooth.


	7. Oh Jealousy

Night had fallen again by the time they made it out of the dark, dank dungeon with Mythril in hand, forcing the trio to camp out again for the night. Even though Aranea would be taking them so far in her ship they were tired and there was no sense in arriving at Lestallum after midnight. So, the haven it was.

Ignis found himself irate and twitchy, unable to stop the clipped tones of his voice whenever Noctis or Prompto talked to him. He knew full well why he was in a such foul mood (it wasn’t just the wet shoes) but he didn’t really want to admit it to himself so he tried to squash it down though it didn't really help. Even trying to ignore it, it just kept coming back, a tight band squeezing round his chest.

Jealousy. It seemed he wasn’t above such an emotion as he liked to think himself. It had been so very long since the last time he felt it's claws gripping in.

A small part of him did feel bad since Noctis and Prompto had pulled back to tiptoe around him, speaking in hushed tones as they sat around the campfire. He could still catch their words, the softly spoken conversation ranging from more speculation on where Gladio was to, what Altissa would be like, and idle chitchat in between (“how has your stomach been lately?” “I hear there’s a monster fish down in that lake”). Mostly he couldn’t stop bitterly admonishing himself for allowing himself to feel so strongly about this, keeping his focus inward. He didn’t even have the appetite to eat.

Finally, Noctis announced in a low murmur that he was going on ahead to sleep and Ignis took that as he cue to get up and start cleaning up. As he was rolling up his sleeves, contemplating if it was worth it to save his food for the morning, he became aware of the presence of another at his elbow. All it took was one look down at pale hands on the table, missing their normal gloves but still topped with multiple bracelets, to confirm it as Prompto. With a nod to acknowledge his presence, Ignis started going through the motions of cleaning up; Wiping down the table, washing dishes, passing them over to be dried and then packing everything up again.

With the two of them it didn’t take long to finish the chore and they lapsed into a somewhat awkward silence, neither making a move to leave. Ignis was steeling himself to say, well, something to end the standstill but before he could articulate his words Prompto had beaten him to the punch:

“What’s up Iggy? You’ve been acting kind of weird.” His tone was so earnest and Ignis’ heart tightened because _of course_ he had no idea.

The result was Ignis allowing himself to act on impulse as his hand shot out to rest on the side of Prompto’s head, cupping his cheek in his palm. Prompto’s mouth opened in surprise, and Ignis followed the movement, thumb stroking over his cheekbone as he tried to figure out where to go now. Rarely he allowed himself to act so rashly.

“There is a thing that nothing is,  
A foolish wanton, sober wise;  
It hath noe wings, noe eyes, noe eares,  
And yet it flies, it sees, it heares;  
It lives by losse, it feeds on smart,  
It joyes in woe, it liveth not;  
Yet evermore this hungry elfe  
Doth feed on nothing but itselfe.”

The words felt as if they were being pulled directly from his lungs, leaving him breathless as he waited for the words to settle. It took only a heart beat for Prompto to clue in, reading the meaning behind the poem.

“You’re jealous?” He asked, almost incredulously, before the next revelation took hold with a sheepish, “Oh.”

“I fear I must admit that I’m a jealous man in some respects. Hearing you talk of someone else...” Ignis trailed off, sliding his hand around to back of Prompto’s head, catching blonde hair between his fingers. He almost wished he wasn’t wearing his gloves so he could feel the texture of his hair.

“I wasn’t serious, I promise. It’s just... Noct still seemed down about Gladio and he always got a kick out of "lady's man" Prompto so I figured it might cheer him up if I put that act on again. I’m sorry, Ignis. I didn’t think it would bother you, I’m so dumb, I didn’t know for sure if you liked me or if I was projecting but maybe you still don’t and I’m making an ass of myself by saying it now.” Prompto babbled, stumbling over his own words as they rushed out. He abruptly stopped when Ignis hushed him. During his ranting he had been looking everywhere but Ignis’ face but now he looked him in the eye.

“Wouldn’t you agree that it’s about time we stop dancing around each other?” Ignis waited to see if Prompto would say something but after a moment of nothing he continued on. “It’s selfish as we both have duties that take precedent over all else. But if even in just this one respect, I want you to be no one's but mine. If you’ll have me in return.”

He took a step back to let Prompto to move the next piece on the board. His stomach rolled with nerves but he refused to let it show, carefully schooling his features into a neutral expression. Prompto meanwhile seemed like a deer caught in the headlights, lips pressed together in a thin line. Suddenly he gave a decisive nod, and stepped forward like a man on a mission, determination etched on his face. If Ignis had the time he was sure he would be startled by the sudden change but as it was he was too preoccupied on how Prompto had stepped into his space and put his face in so close in to his own that he could feel his breath tickle his skin.

“Yes. Yes, of course. If you think you won’t get tired of me too quickly. Because, I’ll have you know, I can be pretty darn annoying at times.” Prompto slyly smiled, tentatively putting his hands up on Ignis’ shoulders. 

“You say that if I was not already aware,” Ignis quipped back with a relieved smile. The retort was meet with a laugh and Ignis slipped an arm around Prompto’s waist to pull him in closer until they were pressed together.

It was such primitive behaviour, but damned if he didn't feel better now knowing what kind of ground they stood on with each other and not needing to worry that he wouldn't get a chance before Prompto was lead away by someone else. They couldn't promise to put the other first but at least they had this. They could have moments just for them, like browsing stands in Lestallum's market, sleepless nights spent together, sitting in front of the ocean and confessions at night surrounded by the glow of protection ruins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to explore possessive Iggy more and this seemed the perfect time ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) Hey, we're making some headway! 
> 
> Poem is [On Jealousy](https://mypoeticside.com/show-classic-poem-28677) by William Strode
> 
>  
> 
> ~~That didn't get too cheesy, did it?? On one hand I'm like "Thats way too much, gotta tone it down" but then its like "....It wouldn't be if it was a poem. They're all about being extra."~~


	8. I have bought you, at no small cost,

Altissia was something entirely of its own. Prompto had looked up the city, had read different articles about it, but none of that prepared him for being in the city himself. It was nothing at all like Insomnia, grand in it’s own way. If he were forced to compare them he would have to say that it was like the difference between technology and art. Altissia was filled with flowers and crawling vines, outdoor cafes, ornamental structures and colour. Oh the colour! All in all Prompto was quite taken with the city; he wanted to document everything with his camera.

As it turned out, once their visit with Weskham was out of the way, they did have some downtime for him to work with. After talking it over the next morning before leaving the hotel, the whole party had come to the agreement to spend the day preparing and doing their own thing before Noctis would attend his meeting with Camelia at dusk. She can wait, Noctis had declared.

So, they split up. Noctis to follow a tip about some fishing wharf in the middle of the harbour, Gladio having said he wanted to check out the arena and Ignis had announced his intention to stock their supplies in the outdoor market near where they had landed. Which left Prompto alone to explore. Part of him wanted to follow Ignis, to take advantage of the ability to spend time alone together, but he decided against it, reasoning that if Ignis wanted him to keep him company he would have asked.

_Or is that my insecurity talking again?_

Everything had been going fine with Ignis since Vesperpool. They hadn’t exactly progressed much further but neither had they regressed. They exchanged casual and affectionate touches in public – nothing over the top and easy to miss – and while they weren't hiding it they also hadn’t told the other two about the change in their relationship. In private they exchanged a few kisses but they were never truly alone, travelling as they were, so that was as far as their intimacy went.

So he strolled around the city on his own, taking pictures of anything and everything that caught his eye. By the time noon came around he already had more than a dozen pictures; Flowers, an artfully posed lamp post, waterfalls in the distance, a cheerful gondola man, a selfie here or there. He had to force himself to stop before he ran out of space on his memory card. To kill time, Prompto decoded to browse the many stands around the city, trying to find a trinket to keep as a momento. 

He was trying to decide between a sticker or charm for his phone (both Chocobos of course), when he felt the buzz of an incoming message.

' _If you are so inclined, meet me at the Tidemother fountain_ ' read the text from Ignis. Snorting at the formality of the message, Prompto shot off a reply (' _On the way! ☆ﾐ(o*･ω･)ﾉ_ ') and bought both items, quickly pulling out his gil coins and hastily shoving his newly acquired treasures into his pocket to hurry along. Now, if he was remembering his directions right from what he had explored so far.... that would be the way he wanted to go.

One wrong turn and backtrack later, Prompto could finally see the giant wire statue come into view. Jogging up the steps, he scanned the crowd of people eagerly to find Ignis. He wasn’t all that hard to spot out, all darkly clad among the lighter hues, and Prompto cheerfully waved at him to signal his arrival.

“What’s up?” Prompto greeted when he got closer, stepping in as close as he could get away with in a crowded area. Ignis, in turn, crossed his arms and turned so they were side to side.

“See that cafe over there?” He lifted his chin up, and Prompto followed the direction, pretty sure he was looking at the right place. “It seems they have a poetry reading happening soon. Shall we attend?”

“Is this your way of asking me on a date?” Prompto teased, grinning widely, “Because, that's like the best date ever!”

“If you wish to call it a date...” Ignis trailed off and Prompto didn’t miss the slight blush which Ignis attempted to hide by fixing his glasses.

“Well, let’s go!” He decided better of teasing further, looping his arm through Ignis’ and leading the way. Altissia was shaping up to be their best stop yet.

* * *

A few hours later found the duo walking down one of the more secluded overpasses, the beginning rays of sundown peeking through the wide openings of the stone walls. The backs of their hands brushed together as they walked but neither took the next step to slip their hands together. Prompto himself felt that it wasn’t entirely necessary as they were already close enough; what more would holding hands do? That, and he liked the more casual atmosphere between them. If they were holding hands he would probably be overthinking it, start sweating, and send himself into a nervous tizzy. No, this was good.

“Awh, it's a dead end. What kind of passage leads to a dead end?!” Prompto exclaimed once they exited the bridge, looking around the deserted balcony. With a grunt, he threw himself down, rather dramatically, in one of the nearby chairs. “I’m diggin’ Altissia but the place is built like a maze.”

“It can be a tad difficult to navigate.” Ignis agreed, leaning back against the railing. He looked the picture of perfection, the pose of his body and the softening light of the golden hour working it’s magic. Reflexively Prompto took up his camera, trigger finger pressing down on the shutter release button. Once he was done, Ignis gracefully holding still for the impromptu photo shoot, Prompto relocated himself next to Ignis so they were shoulder to shoulder, angled so he was still looking at him.

“So, did you have a favourite poem?” He asked, tilting his head as he looked up at his partner. 

“Hmmm...” Ignis looked up, eyebrows furrowed in contemplation. “A few stand out, but I was quite fond of the beginning of one of the later poems. I believe I remember enough if you’d like me to repeat it?” 

“Yeah!” A vigorous nod of a head and Ignis shifted, placing his arm so it was around Prompto, holding onto the rail by his hip.

“I have bought you, at no small cost,  
A little something, that smells sweet,  
Since by a scent one often knows a street.  
Wherever I am, wherever you may be,  
I can be clear and certain, free of doubt.  
If you hide from me, I’ll pardon you,  
For, carrying this, always, as you pass,  
Even if I were blind, I would find you”

As he repeated the poem, Ignis slowly moved in closer until his face was just shy of Prompto’s. Prompto was the one to close the gap, softly pressing his lips to Ignis’. Just like all their kisses so far, it started chaste and slowly developed into something deeper but unhurried. They gravitated closer to each other in the shared moment until Prompto had his hand on Ignis’s thigh and the other had his arm snug around Prompto’s waist to hold him close.

When they finally pulled back, they were both silent for a minute as they took the time to look each other over. Prompto was the first to move, twisting until he was cuddled up to Ignis’ side.

“We should get a picture together! Just us!” He declared but instead of using his camera he pulled out his phone, opening the camera app as he lifted it up in front of them. “Say cheese!!”

Once the picture was taken, Prompto flicked his thumb to the left to pull it up to take a better look. Although the quality would no doubt be better on his camera, he couldn’t find a single fault with portrait; their heads were pressed together at the temple, the background light offered little shadow and vivid colour, and Prompto’s grin was broad and toothy while Ignis’ smile, more reserved, pulled up enough to crinkle the corners of his eyes.

“Perfect!” He declared, setting it has his background – he needed a new one anyone, he reasoned. As he was doing so, he noticed the time in the corner of his screen, “Hey, it’s getting pretty late. Think we should head back to the hotel?”

“Maybe in a moment. The other two can wait.” Ignis replied smoothly, cupping the side of Prompto’s head and pulling him back in for another kiss.

Yeah, Prompto could definitely get used to Altissia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -struggles all week to write- -has to start packing- -sudden inspiration to write-
> 
> My dudes. This was probably the hardest chapter for me to do in terms of finding a poem. I wanted it to be Italian in origin because of Altissia = Venice and the set up of the chapter (I was just stuck on the idea of a poetry reading date). Do you know how many Italian poems are about god and religion? The hint is a fuckton. Like. A lot.
> 
> So, the poem for this chapter is Michelangelo Buonarroti's [I have bought you, at no small cost,](http://www.poetryintranslation.com/PITBR/Italian/Italianpoetry.htm#anchor_Toc81635273)
> 
> A few people have already followed me, so I figured I should make my tumblr a bit easier to find. You can hit me up [here](http://dirtyinfluences.tumblr.com/)! I don't post my writing there but I do reblog a lot of random, usually fandom related, shit? With the occasional selfie or text post.


	9. I should not dare to leave my friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It goes without saying but spoilers post chapter 9 start now. In case you haven't gotten that far or don't already know them.

The Hydraen was a catastrophe. A typhoon of disaster.

While Noctis had earned the Astral’s blessing it was near overshadowed by how wrong it had all turned out. A city in shambles. Lady Lunafreya dead. Noctis unwaking. And Ignis. They had known Niflheim would be there and prepared for worst case scenario but this...

Prompto had scarcely seen Gladio in the last two days as the man was either in the streets helping clear away the rubble or acting as security at Noctis’ room in the hotel. He knew he should be out helping as well, or taking turns watching over Noctis, but Prompto was unable to tear himself away Ignis’ side except for a handful of minutes. The irrational part of him caused his stomach to knot and twist at the thought of leaving him, remembering the panic at losing contact with him to the sounds of an explosion and the screeching static of a communication device meeting it’s end.

So he sat and he waited. He watched the healers as they came in and out. Slept upright in the metal chair. Talked to a heavily sedated Ignis, gently holding onto his least injured hand. Shirked away as Gladio stomped in to check up and then stomped out again. All with an overlaying feeling of numb melancholy.

It eventually caught up with him. 

The doctor had just been in to break the news that, despite all their attempts, there was just too much damage; the explosion Ignis had been caught in seemed to have been caused by a napalm of some sort. The combination of the sticky fire and flying debris had caused entirely too much damage. The side of his face most damaged was scarred in a tangled mess of torn tissue and melted skin resulting in the lose of mobility of his eyelid. Apart from that both eyes had suffered too much corneal trauma. Potions only sped up healing. They didn’t reverse damage.

“Your friend will be blind the rest of his life. We won’t know the true extent of any remaining vision until Mr. Scientia fully wakes up and we remove all the bandages. We’ll be starting to lower his dosage of sedatives....” The doctor’s voice washed away in a sea of white noise and Prompto nodded along with him until the man left once more after he fiddled with some of the IV's. After a minute of silently watching over Ignis, Prompto turned and walked to the bathroom attached to the room.

After he locked the door, he turned to face the mirror and stare at his own reflection. His hair was a greasy mess, tufts sticking up this way and that, pale skin seemed all that paler under the harsh lighting and dirt still streaked his cheeks and neck. _I must look like a madman to the hospital staff_ , he thought. It took a moment of quiet contemplation before the first sob started bubbling up, constricting his chest and burning his sinuses and eyes as it came forth.

Prompto leaned down to the sink, crossing his arms over his stomach and pressed his forehead to the cool porcelain as he let himself cry for the first time since everything had gone down. Full on ugly sobbed in a cramped hospital bathroom. He cried for Ignis, yes, but he also cried for Noctis who had lost so much already and had now lost even more, for Gladio whose coping mechanism was building rage, for Lady Lunafreya’s sacrifice of her life, and for himself and everything that would now follow.

He cried until he was out of tears, dry heaved a bit further, and then stood up straight again. This time as he looked at himself in the mirror, tear stained cheeks and upper lip shiny with running mucus, he felt something like resolve settle heavy in his gut. His self defined role thus far had been comic relief but that wasn't going to work. He needed to be stronger than that, needed to slip into a support role for the others. He had to be the net for them to fall back on – especially Ignis, who had been most like a support pillar up until this.

Cleaning up his face with toilet paper and water, Prompto exited the bathroom with a different set to his shoulders. He pulled up his chair closer to Ignis and pulled out his poetry book as he sat down. It was water logged and no longer in it’s original pristine condition but he still took care to handle it like it was a treasure. 

And he read. He started with page one, and went from there, reciting every poem on every page out loud, only faltering when he got nearly halfway through. Up until then the poems had been about positive emotions or nature but this one...

He felt he couldn’t identify any more with a poem at this time than he did now with this one.

“I should not dare to leave my friend,  
Because – because if he should die  
While I was gone – and I – too late –  
Should reach the Heart that wanted me – 

If I should disappoint the eyes  
That hunted – hunted so – to see –  
And could not bear to shut until  
They "noticed" me – they noticed me – 

If I should stab the patient faith  
So sure I'd come – so sure I'd come –  
It listening – listening – went to sleep –  
Telling my tardy name – 

My Heart would wish it broke before –  
Since breaking then – since breaking then –  
Were useless as next morning's sun –  
Where midnight frosts – had lain!”

He wasn't going to leave and let Ignis wake up alone without him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~Part of this may have been self indulgent oops~~
> 
>  
> 
> Just throwing it out there that I am not a medical expert. However, I was curious about what kind of trauma had happened that caused the loss of Ignis' eyesight and how he keeps one eye open but one eye closed. Its not a great explanation but comes with touches from my own googling and personal experience (as in, I've known a few burn survivors, and my partner is a lifelong diabetic who faces the likelihood of vision loss and has DME so I've done a lot of personal research into vision loss and different reasons for it.)
> 
> Poem is Emily Dickinson's [I should not dare to leave my friend](http://bloggingdickinson.blogspot.ca/2012/04/i-should-not-dare-to-leave-my-friend.html) bc.... it gave me feels.
> 
> Remember guys, it only gets worse from here! ;)


	10. Love is more thicker than forget

“Took more photos today. You... wanna see?”

“No, not really.”

Ignis’ jaw clenched tighter at Noctis’ dismissive tone and he shifted in his chair, fisting and unfisting his hands as he tried to relax himself. Since boarding the train towards Tenebrae his annoyance levels had been steadily increasing with every snide remark and derisive tone. Children. He was travelling with children. Prompto was the exception, however, the one saving grace that kept Ignis from having a stroke. Noctis and Gladiolus couldn’t stop sniping at each other but Prompto kept doing his best to play peace maker all while keeping at Ignis’ elbow to help him as soon as he was needed. 

But as the days passed, the heavier Prompto’s tone became with exhaustion and the more withdrawn he became, the toll of trying to support the group wearing down on him. It caused an ache behind Ignis' breastbone to think of.

“Yeah. Of course.” 

Behind him, he could hear the angry prowling of Gladio acting like his was some kind of caged animal. While Noctis’ ever lasting defeated mood had become very old very quickly at least Ignis could see where he was coming from – Gladio, on the other hand, was grating on his nerves with the righteous anger on his behalf. While Ignis was sure it wasn’t a conscious decision, it was as if he was using Ignis’ condition as an excuse to be angry.

He was blind. There was no sugar coating it. But Ignis had always been a quick study and had been trained to be adaptable to every situation that would arise. So he tackled this as something he could analyze and work with. While he had told Prompto before on the train that his eyesight was a matter of time, and he was still able to discern light, he knew that nothing would cure his blindness. But it didn’t mean his life had to come to a standstill. In fact, he liked to believe he was adapting remarkably well. He was now able to navigate better, even if the uneven marshy terrain proved difficult, and he was able to do many things, such as dressing and eating, without help.

“Prompto.” He beckoned, tilting his head in the direction he had heard the two voices. He then listened as Prompto made his way over, feet dragging on the stone in a shuffle. A chair was dragged and he felt knees press into his. Ignis reached out his hand, palm up in invitation and within seconds he felt Prompto’s hand cover his own.

“How’re you holding up, Iggy? Need me to get anything for you?” The other eagerly asked, lilting his voice up into something cheerful even if he couldn’t hide the strained edges.

“I merely wished for the enjoyment of your company.” He used the grip he had on Prompto to pull him in closer and dropped his voice to a whisper, “You seem to be the only sane one left, after all. I’m growing quite tired of being treated as an invalid.”

“I didn't mean-!”

“Hush. I didn’t mean you.” Ignis placated, moving in cautiously until he felt his forehead bump against Prompto’s. He used his free hand to trace over his face and all the features he could remember in perfect clarity in his mind’s eye.

One of his biggest fears was that he would come to forget the faces of everyone he held dear.

“I don’t think I’ve seen Gladio so angry or Noctis so down.... I’m trying, but I don’t think it’s working.” Prompto admitted, and Ignis sat back.

“You can’t help it if people are unwilling to accept your help.” Ignis declared, uncaring if he was overheard or not. “You’ve been doing more than enough.”

“Thanks, Ignis.” Prompto sighed, sounding genuinely happy which caused Ignis to smile in turn. At least, until he heard Gladio grumble something about the fire and Noctis mumble a sarcastic quip under his breath. Ignis raised a hand to press his thumb to the bridge of his nose, a replacement for his habit of pinching the bridge when he was annoyed or stressed. Suddenly, a thought came to him.

“Oh, I had nearly forgotten. I remembered a poem I had meant to share with you before... well.” Clearing his throat, Ignis changed course, “It reminded me of you. Us.”

“Yeah?” Prompto eagerly asked, his legs sliding against Ignis’ as he, presumably, slipped in closer.

“love is more thicker than forget  
more thinner than recall  
more seldom than a wave is wet  
more frequent than to fail

it is most mad and moonly  
and less it shall unbe  
than all the sea which only  
is deeper than the sea

love is less always than to win  
less never than alive  
less bigger than the least begin  
less littler than forgive

it is most sane and sunly  
and more it cannot die  
than all the sky which only  
is higher than the sky”

Halfway through the poem, Ignis had reached out again to card his finger’s through Prompto’s hair, hand landing in the right spot on the first try. If he had bothered to listen to anything else, he would have noticed the distinct lack of sound coming from Noctis and Gladio.

And once he had finished the poem, he leaned forward for a quick kiss, using his hand on Prompto as an anchoring point to guide him and gauge the distance.

He knew the mounting tension around them all would have to break, and soon, but for now he cherished the small moment of reprieve with Prompto; a calm amidst the storm around them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to get this out before Episode Prompto dropped and I'd be spending all my free time after work playing that. Also because I figured it'd be a good point to stop before EP.
> 
> Poem comes from [only_one_in_the_world](http://archiveofourown.org/users/only_one_in_the_world) and the lovely comment they left that mentioned it; It is e.e. cumming's [love is more thicker than forget](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/detail/22224)


	11. To Hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for Episode Prompto

Everything ached. The tingling of his nerve endings, the raw soreness around his neck, the cut on his temple still sluggishly bleeding and the fire in his arms from holding the weight of his upper body. Every now and then, as Prompto faded in and out, he would wonder how much time had passed since his capture – hours, days, months? There was no way of telling in his cold cell that gave no hint of the outside world.

Stupid. So stupid. How could he have let himself be captured? He couldn’t even remember much of it – he had been drifting over snowy hills when a sudden explosion knocked him off his vehicle and then.... bits and parts. MTs. Ardyn's creepy, predatory smile. He remembered fighting back and getting a knock to the head with the butt of a rifle. Then he woke up here, no sign of his tundra gear anywhere and back in his original clothing.

Every now and then he would hear Ardyn’s taunting voice in his ear, reminding him of when they had last meet in the research facility. Sometimes he was sure he could see the sweeping of his heavy layers, but whenever he glanced over he would still be alone.

“What if your dear Noctis learns of your patricide! Though I imagine he shan’t be surprised, knowing what you truly are.”

“And all those poor MT’s! Would that also count as fratricide, I wonder?”

“How long until you turn as well? You weren’t built to last, you know.”

A twisted version of his victory fanfare.

“Oh, it looks like the prince has arrived. Too bad he can’t use his weapons. Would you like to take bets on how long he lasts?”

“Or what about that Ignis you seem to be close to? He could just wander right into a nest of demons!”

And then it was quiet for much longer than he remembered it being since he had been trapped. Occasionally he would try to lift his head, only for it to loll back down without the strength to hold it up. By the six, did his stomach ever hurt with both cramping and gnawing hunger. What if he starved to death? If it kept up like this, he surely would.

No. Noctis was coming. He repeated this mantra to himself in his head. And Gladio and Ignis, they’ll find him. They would save him.

_But why would they bother? You’re a monster, after all._

Maybe this was all in his head. Maybe he had turned into a mindless MT just like Ardyn had suggested he would, and his consciousness had built this dream to keep him from going completely mad? A last sliver of sanity.

“When by my solitary hearth I sit,  
When no fair dreams before my “mind’s eye” flit,  
And the bare heath of life presents no bloom;  
Sweet Hope, ethereal balm upon me shed,  
And wave thy silver pinions o’er my head.”

The words scratched his dry throat and came out as a weak wobble, tongue a heavy weight in his mouth. He couldn’t give into negative thoughts. Even the slightest slip would end with him giving up, and he couldn’t do that. Not after how far he had come – he owed it to so many people. To Noctis, Ignis and Gladio. He especially owed it to Arenea for all the help she gave him.

His vision went fuzzy again, and he woke to the sound of metal against metal. Noctis? Craning his head up, he couldn’t stop the sigh of disappointment when no one came to his cell.

“Should Disappointment, parent of Despair,  
Strive for her son to seize my careless heart;  
When, like a cloud, he sits upon the air,  
Preparing on his spell-bound prey to dart:  
Chase him away, sweet Hope, with visage bright,  
And fright him as the morning frightens night!”

That was okay. Just because it wasn’t them this time didn’t mean that they weren’t coming. It was probably just a rat. Chin falling back to his chest, Prompto curled his fingers and gasped at the pain that shot down through his arm at the movement; he persisted, uncurling and curling them again. Get the blood flowing, that’s good Prompto. Keep yourself active and focus on something besides your thoughts.

However, even those small movements tired him out, and his heavy lids fell closed once more, small tears of frustration gathering in the corners of his eyes.

When he woke again, it was to the sound of footsteps and a shining light in his face. Squinting his eyes with a groan, his heart thumped against his chest when the figures got closer and he saw who was behind the light. Before he could react or say anything, Gladio and Noctis were tugging and pulling at the contraption holding him, Ignis lingering behind them with a tense set to his shoulders and tight grip on his cane.

Suddenly, the restraints gave way without warning and Prompto fell forward, world turning upside down and spinning. Thankfully he was caught before he could fall face first into the concrete and lowered down to the floor gently. Swallowing back the nausea that accompanied his dizziness, Prompto took a moment to allow his stomach to settle, answering the questions about him being okay, before he sat back on his heels and stared up at the ceiling.

Was this a dream?

“Tell me. Were you worried about me?” Prompto felt the words tumble out before he could really think about it, looking to his best friend. Noctis’ reply would confirm if this was real or not; if he was real or not.

_And as, in sparkling majesty, a star_   
_Gilds the bright summit of some gloomy cloud;_   
_Brightening the half veil’d face of heaven afar:_   
_So, when dark thoughts my boding spirit shroud,_   
_Sweet Hope, celestial influence round me shed,_   
_Waving thy silver pinions o’er my head._

Prompto looked to Ignis, and despite the pinched expression of worry, he could see the traces of relief. His heart swelled as they left the cell and he stepped in closer to place his hand in Ignis', focusing on the heat the radiated from him.

He was real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Four more chapters left! However, I do plan to post chapter 14 and 15 at the same time so really only three more updates. Are you excited? I'm excited. Also a little sad - I've been loving writing this and reading all this poetry!!
> 
> Sorry there wasn't much Promnis in this chapter. I'll make up for it next chapter? orz
> 
> Today's chapter features [To Hope](http://keats-poems.com/to-hope/) by John Keats. I couldn't resist using him again, sorry


	12. Love's Philosophy

There was nothing quiet about Zegnautus Keep. Even after the others had fallen silent with sleep, the sounds of ever grinding gears, magitek patrols and clanking metal played behind their quiet breathing. It was a place that Ignis could do without and he was eager to leave once they found the crystal. Especially now that they had Prompto back with them.

Prompto. Who was sat at his side, leaning to him and so very very quiet. Thank the six they had found him even if it had seemed like it was ultimately part of Ardyn’s plan for them to. But at least he was with them now and no longer strung up in that foul prison enclosure.

When they had approached the cells earlier Ignis had known where they were without being told, courtesy of the sour stench of sweat, piss, blood and decaying flesh. Death; it smelled of death. Then they had found Prompto and.... Ignis’ stomach had knotted itself together painfully at Gladio’s sharp intake of breath before he and Noctis surged forward and his heart did the same at the pungent cell block odour strengthening once he crossed the threshold of the cell. His heart had loosened only by a fraction when he heard Prompto’s groan signaling that he was very much alive still.

They stopped long enough to get him cleaned up by a unanimous vote, a damp clothing wiping away the morbid perfume, before soldiering on to the source of their weapon problems. 

Currently, they were holed up in a barrack, finally feeling secure enough to sleep – which they desperately needed – now that they were properly armed again.

“May I feel it?” Ignis asked in a low voice, once Gladio started snoring lightly – if Gladio was sleeping, Noctis surely was. Prompto pulled away and Ignis shifted in kind to face himself towards him. Prompto didn’t move far before he reached out and took Ignis’ hand, guiding it to his wrist.

“It’s... I don’t know, kind of like a tattoo? The bar code isn’t raised or anything.” Prompto mumbled, placing Ignis’ fingers to his skin and letting go. Ignis carefully touched the skin, feeling the leather of Prompto’s bracelet at the tips of his fingers and raised, scarred tissue underneath the pads. Even before the blindness Ignis had been familiar with the feel of different scar types; he was positive the scar tissue beneath his fingers came from a burn.

The thought of someone, perhaps Prompto himself, burning the brand felt sour and curdled in Ignis’ belly.

“When Noctis told us that you had fallen from the train... he wanted to stop. To turn back and find you. I had to be the one to tell him no. It hurt so very deeply to say but all the passengers... we couldn’t endanger so many lives. I apologize, Prompto. I wanted nothing more to recover you... I, I had a duty... I’m so sorry.” He started wavering near the end of his apology, feeling unsure of himself. He wasn’t sure why he was admitting this now but he felt he had to.

“Ignis, it’s okay. We talked about this, didn’t we? Noctis comes first. Our duty to him comes first. You don’t need to apologize.” Prompto was quick to assure, taking both of Ignis’ hands in his. His tone was gentle but bright.

“But –”

“No buts. I’m here now, aren’t I?” Prompto gave him a light punch to the shoulder before laughing lightly – in his mind he could see the singular shoulder shrug that accompanied such a laugh. “I kinda still can’t believe you guys want me after... well. Me.”

Ignis didn’t reply, unable to collect his thoughts into one coherent sentence. There was so many things he wanted to say – Of course they wanted him, why wouldn’t they, that he had been wrong all those months ago at the beginning when he considered them all expendable chess pieces for Noctis, that he was terrified – still terrified – of what was going to happen next, that he loved him.

That he loved him.

So instead he stayed silent, gently caressing every bare inch of skin he found under his touch. He lingered on the crook of Prompto’s arm, traced shoulders he knew were freckle dotted, pressed down gently at the hollow between collarbones and beneath the adam’s apple.

“The fountains mingle with the river  
And the rivers with the ocean,  
The winds of heaven mix for ever  
With a sweet emotion;  
Nothing in the world is single,  
All things by a law divine  
In one another’s being mingle—  
Why not I with thine?”

As he recited, he moved in closer, feeling Prompto do the same as if they were being pulled together by string.

“See the mountains kiss high heaven,  
And the waves clasp one another;  
No sister-flower would be forgiven  
If it disdain’d its brother;  
And the sunlight clasps the earth,  
And the moonbeams kiss the sea—  
What is all this sweet work worth  
If thou kiss not me?” 

Ignis’ nose bumped into Prompto’s and he let it guide him closer to Prompto’s ear, voice dropped to a whisper.

“It matters not your origin. I’ll always have you – you’re mine, after all. Did I not tell you that already?”

Prompto surrounded his senses a singular heartbeat after. His shuddery breath in his ear, the smell of his hair and the touch of being wrapped up in his arms. Ignis might have normally protested such a strong outward, and spontaneous, display but this time the thought didn't cross his mind. Instead, he pulled Prompto impossibly closer and clung on to him just as tightly. 

They held on like a lifeline, finding respite in each other from the ominous, metallic fortress filled with fiends, and from the heavy burden of fate upon their shoulders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long, guys! I was pretty busy with obligations and then I moved last weekend so whatever free time I had was spent packing and then unpacking and setting up the new place. I only just finished the last box hahaha orz
> 
> But. Here it is!
> 
> This chapter's poem belongs to ~~the ever dramatic~~ Percy Bysshe Shelley; [Love's Philosophy](https://m.poets.org/poetsorg/poem/loves-philosophy)


End file.
